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Brad Weismann

The first thing Jerry Krantz ever said to me was, “Get the hell out of my bar!” I was 18; my friends and I were wandering around what was the bad part of Denver. Back then, everything northeast of 18th Street consisted of dive bars, flophouses, pawn shops, and empty storefronts. Hoboes still hung...

The unmistakable sounds of jazz pierce the sweltering late-summer air. In one smoky club, saxophonists Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young trade riffs with trumpeter Buck Clayton in between breathy verses sung by Helen Humes, while the great Count Basie holds court in the lounge. Across the street,...

In 1958, an enterprising builder named Jack Hoerner began the construction of Arvada’s Allendale Heights. The 15 “Titan” home sites, each with its own built-in A-bomb haven, still stand near the intersection of Lewis Court and Allendale Drive. The Bomb was on everyone’s mind, and Hoerner wrung full...

From the beginning, the cinema’s parade of images features Colorado again and again. As backdrop, production base, and breeding ground, our state has figured more prominently in the history of film than a casual observer might suspect. Since the days of the silents, Colorado-based films and...